Entertaining noir, even though it's got an annoyingly uplifting ending and story holes you could drive a 1949 Packard through, such as why Liz Scott's ex brother in law takes seven years to suddenly realize his ex sister in law is a murderess and conveniently arrives to investigate just as the next hubby is offed! Still, it's hard to diss a noir in which the king and queen of the genre, Dan Duryea and Scott, are at the top of their games, especially Scott with one of the best takes on sheer venality since Von Stroheim's "Greed". It's fascinating to watch this gal, with her furry voice and slinky body, be aroused to passion by the look and feel of a mink coat or a sumptuous hotel suite in Mexico City. And Duryea, playing the eternal wisecracking sap, is most diverting as well. For these two, as well as some interesting glimpses into late 40s LA when MacArthur Park was Westlake and Sunset Blvd at night was the haunt of femme fatales rather than stoners, let's give this one a generous B minus.
Review of Too Late for Tears
